


Rebellions Are Built on Hope

by Jael, pir8grl



Series: The Public House at the End of the Universe [2]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-17 23:48:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14841531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jael/pseuds/Jael, https://archiveofourown.org/users/pir8grl/pseuds/pir8grl
Summary: This is a follow up to One More Day to Stay.  (Seriously - read that first!)





	Rebellions Are Built on Hope

**Earth-1**

John Constantine poked his head in the door of the captain’s study. 

“Sara, love...we need to talk,” he said in a rather sober tone, the sort of tone that usually had the Waverider’s captain putting her head in her heads and asking “And what did we screw up _now?”_

Sara was a bit distracted this time, though. And so, she just looked up quizzically. “Where’ve you been?” 

“In my quarters.” John sidled into the room, still looking a touch...shifty. “I got sucked into a little adventure on the astral plane.” 

Sara eyed him. “No damage to my ship, I hope.” 

“No. Nothing physical whatsoever.” Now he was trying to sound innocent. That was **_never_** good.

Still… “All right. What do we need to talk about?” She stretched out a foot and pushed a chair in his general direction. 

John glanced around, a bit apprehensively, even as he took a seat, long legs stretched out before him. “Ah - there are no deadly weapons in this room, right?” 

Sara raised an eyebrow at that. “Assassin, remember? I **_am_** a deadly weapon.” 

“Just so.” 

He sounded almost nervous. Good. “I am, however, now considered a hero-- or at least that’s what people tell me,” Sara continued. “And heroes have to give warnings and headstarts. That good enough for you?” 

“Well then...I suppose it’ll have to be.” John fidgeted. Actually fidgeted. Sara closed her eyes, suddenly wishing herself elsewhere.

“Why do I have the feeling this conversation is going to require booze?” she asked. 

“Because you have remarkably good instincts.” 

Wordlessly, Sara snagged a decanter and poured them each a generous glass. She slid one to him, then sat back in her chair and took a fortifying sip. 

“All right,” she said then, levelly.“What’s on your mind?” 

Constantine took a drink too, then set his glass down, then took out his lighter and began fiddling with it. 

“John?” Sara prompted. 

He looked up abruptly and met her gaze. “All right. You understand, better than most, I think, that there are multiple worlds out there. A lot of those worlds have a Sara Lance. A lot of them have a fellow named Leonard Snart.” 

Sara didn’t interrupt, but her fingers tightened around her glass and she did take a substantial gulp of her drink. 

“On some of those worlds, they never meet,” John continued. “On others, they’re friends, or lovers, or -”

“Or a possibility.” Sara hadn’t really meant to speak, then. She’d told John, one night, just the two of them and a bottle of scotch, about all those nights when she and Leonard had whiled away the hours with scotch and cards, growing closer. About the kiss at the Oculus, something she’d never told anyone else. He understood. He always did.

“Exactly.” John knew she wouldn’t accept pity, but there was a thread of sympathy in his tone. “Now then. On one of those worlds where a Sara Lance and a Leonard Snart had grown quite close, one night, Leonard’s soul went for a bit of a walkabout. His Sara brought her _me_ in to help.”

*

The Sara Lance in front of him threw back the remainder of her drink and poured herself another. He really couldn’t blame her. 

“Other me tracked Leonard’s soul onto the astral plane.” He took another drink, dropping his eyes to the glass. “Now, things can get a bit dodgy out there, and I got pulled along for the ride. Turns out there were four different Leonard Snarts, having themselves a bit of a...group encounter session, so to speak.” Oh, this part was gonna **_hurt_** her. He hated doing that. “One of them was the Leonard Snart from this Earth.” 

Sara stared at him a long moment. “That’s impossible,” she stated flatly. “My--this Earth’s-- Leonard is dead.” 

Ah, the pain hidden in that flat statement. “No, he’s not, love,” Constantine told her gently. “The Leonard Snart you knew stood up in the one place in the universe where free will existed, and he chose to lay down his life for his friends.” 

“Yeah. I know.” The pain wasn’t gone. It was just hidden behind a thin veneer of defensive anger. “I was there. He’s dead.” 

“That’s not what I said, Sara.” He raised a finger. “I didn’t say he died, I said he laid down his life.” 

“Same thing,” Sara replied harshly, twisting a heavy silver ring on her finger. 

“It’s not.” Patience, John, he told himself. Patience. Imagine how this sounds to someone who’s not a practitioner...someone who’s spent years accepting this particular “death.” “Your Leonard didn’t die when the Oculus exploded. The explosion ripped a hole in the fabric of reality. Leonard is guarding that hole, until it heals.” 

Sara stood abruptly, and began to pace. “How do I know this is even real?” she asked a bit fiercely. “Let’s face it, John--you’re into some pretty crazy stuff.” 

He took a sip of his drink. “Have you ever known me to be wrong, love?” 

“I...no.” Sara stopped. “I suppose not. But you didn’t know _him._ Could something have tricked you?” 

“Possibly,” Constantine allowed, considering. “But I asked if he had a message for you. At first, he said no. He was afraid you’d rip apart time and space to get him back.” 

Sara’s chin went up stubbornly, and then she sighed.

“Two years ago, I would have,” she admitted. “But...I’m captain, now. I’ve seen the consequences of our screwups.” She ground the heels of her hands into her eyes. “God, I miss him. Is he...is he safe? I mean, he’s not suffering, or anything like that?” 

“He’s safe,” John told her gently. “He’s...well...content with his decision, as it were.” 

Sara’s voice was very quiet. “What was the message?” 

*

“He said to tell you, he owes you a dance.” 

Sara smiled slightly at that, remembering a bar in 1975, and Captain & Tennille playing on the jukebox. 

“And that he still recalls a certain challenge that was issued the last time you spoke,” John continued, still sounding impossibly gentle, but also a little amused. “I have no bloody clue what that means, but I can see you do.” 

Sara sighed. “Yeah, I do,” she allowed, heart twisting with the memory. “But we can...someday, when this hole closes...we can get him back?” 

“Someday, yeah.” John cocked his head at her. “He wanted you to have that hope.” 

“Hope.” Sara shook her head, then knocked back her drink. “Not sure what that’s worth.” 

“Rebellions are built on hope, love.” 

She stared at him. “Seriously? You’re quoting Star Wars at me?”

“What?” John still sounded amused. “It’s a good film. And besides - it’s what you’re both doing, in’it? Rebelling against those who would take away everyone’s free will?” 

Sara raised her glass to him, suddenly smiling. Leonard was still alive, she thought fiercely. He was still out there. He still remembered. And someday…

“You have a point,” she told John. “So...to Leonard.” She shook her head. “Hmm...to all of them. Are you going to tell me more about the others? And the other Saras.”

John held his drink up too. “Depends,” he allowed. “You’ve decided not to go all assassin on me?”

“Nah. If only because you’re the one who can tell me when it’ll be safe to bring Leonard home again.” Her smile grew. Home.

“Awww.” John sounded disappointed. “Pity, love. That assassin stuff, it’s pretty hot. Scary and potentially bloody, but hot. And your boy Snart, he’s a handsome one…”

“Don’t push it, Hellblazer.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, love.”


End file.
